


Digimon Odyssey

by TheCrashMan



Category: Digimon - All Media Types
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2021-01-10
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:13:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28178196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheCrashMan/pseuds/TheCrashMan
Summary: A string of unexplained disappearances.  Sightings of creatures like nothing on this Earth.  When a handful of teens make a pact to investigate this strangeness, they find a parallel world known only as Iliad at the center of the mystery.  As their bonds with both one another and the strange denizens of this world develop, they find that their own home isn't the only one with a web of secrets to unravel.This is a Digimon story with a fully original cast, setting, and continuity.
Comments: 6
Kudos: 12





	1. Chasing Shadows

Heavy is the head that wears the crown.

Heavier, still, is the hand that wishes to seize it.

Despite the sinking feeling in his gut, Justimon forced himself to rise. Each hefty punch from his cybernetic gauntlet left a new battle scar on the face of the cliff, and with it another handhold for spurring himself onwards. It was simple enough at first. The war raging below had left the cliff ravaged and easy to scale. Yet now, as he neared the top of the cliff, each and every wound upon the world would be one of Justimon’s own making.

The cacophony of combat grew distant through the ascent, Justimon abandoning the world behind him until only his thoughts remained. If only such solitude could bring him peace. Whenever he closed his eyes, he could hear it roar back to life so clearly. Visions of endless hordes of foes and allies growing ever wearier danced behind his eyes. All he needed to do was let go. After a few seconds of falling, he’d be right back in the thick of things. He’d be able to rejoin the others on the battlefield, and both the strain in his arms and the strain in his heart would be little more than a memory.

Then he felt the gentle pressure on his shoulder. 

He turned as much as the cliffs would allow, the gaze hidden beneath his visor meeting with that of another. His human. His Aria. The fear in her eyes mirrored his own, but her hand on his shoulder and the slight smile on her face spoke volumes. She trusted him. So, too, did those down below, all of the Digimon risking their lives to ensure he had gotten this far. To leave them to their fates was agony, but it was a sacrifice they had chosen to make. Turning his back on their sacrifice would’ve only been an insult. He nodded at Aria, then flung himself up the face of the cliff with a single, final push.

He knelt down as he landed, giving Aria the chance to climb off of his shoulder. Then the two snapped around to meet the edge of the cliff, surveying the pandemonium that had erupted below. Beings from nearly every corner of the Digital World had been drawn towards this battle to end all battles. Angels clashed with demons in the skies above. Dinosaurs ran down highly advanced war machines, the crunch of steel and bone echoing through the air. Artillery and spells sailed past one another, leaving destruction in their wake as they crashed onto the battlefield. Reinforcements poured in from the land, air, and seas alike, including some that Justimon couldn’t even recognize as friend or foe. Had they been inspired by his message?

Or were they simply moths drawn to the irresistible flame of violence? 

Justimon could only watch with bated breath as they fought, not even the fissures erupting across the battlefield enough to dissuade their bloodlust. The world itself could barely carry the burden of this battle, and yet that burden only seemed to grow by the moment.

Behind him, laughter bellowed as loudly as thunder. “Beautiful, ain’t it?”

Justimon clenched his fist so tightly that he could hear the servos groan in agony. He had heard this voice before, bellowing in delight as villages burned and bands of marauders stormed across the Digital World. This was the same voice that rained down from the ashes, proclaiming that above all else might makes right. This was the voice that had silenced the very gods and now reigned in their stead. 

This was Titamon, the merciless warlord of the Digital World.

This was the one whom Justimon had come to end.

Justimon didn’t even need to turn around to know that Titamon was approaching. His thunderous footsteps, louder than those of any other Digimon, made his approach clear. So, too, did his shadow, stretching over Justimon until he was shrouded in darkness. Lesser Digimon would’ve fled in terror, but Justimon refused to be shaken. Titamon’s footsteps were too slow to be a charge, and his silhouette was empty-handed. Justimon may have come for a fight, but that didn’t mean Titamon was ready to return the favor.

“I tell ya, it’s been getting real boring around here lately. But this? I haven’t seen a fight like this in ages! Almost makes me want to dust off the old blade and get down there myself.” Justimon’s entire body tensed up as Titamon guffawed away. The idea of that tyrant leaping down the cliff and smashing his allies to bits made him feel sick. So, too, did the friendly way in which Titamon spoke to him. Each word out of his mouth made Justimon feel more disgusted than the last. “Oh, who am I kidding? It’s obvious I’d win. Still, you really outdid yourself on this one. How’s it feel?”

“How do I feel?” asked Justimon. In stark contrast to Titamon’s larger than life bellow, Justimon’s words were sharp, hard, and cold. “Down there, Digimon I’d trust with my life are giving theirs for my sake. How do you think that would feel?”

“Pretty great, actually.”

Sparks arced across Justimon’s fist as he stared down into it. “And that’s why I have to do this,” he muttered, almost more to himself than to Titamon. With no further fanfare, he turned around, leaping at Titamon in a furious lunge. The jade and gold skulls emblazoned on Titamon’s armor stared back at him, each one a reminder that he would share their fate were he to fail here. Titamon, too, stared at Justimon. In fact, he leered down at him, making no effort to defend himself. He didn’t even reach for the blade on his back, the color of rotten bone and as long as he was tall. Was he inviting Justimon to take a free shot?

If he was, he’d come to regret it. Justimon may have only been the size of Titamon’s fist, and he may not have had Titamon’s raw power, but he had something Titamon would never have. Below the cliffs, he had his friends, his allies, and all of the Digimon that believed in him. They turned to the skies to watch his ascent, his red scarf flowing behind him like a superhero’s cape. While beaten down, weary, and beset by enemies on all sides, his presence gave them hope. As they rallied against their foes with a furious war cry, they could only hope that their rally could give Justimon hope in turn.

Up here, he had his Aria. Since the day they had met, she and Justimon had supported each other through thick and thin. Not even a literal clash of the titans would change that. Rather than back away from the battle, she unhooked a blue and white device from her belt. Years ago, this device had let Aria turn her willpower into Justimon’s strength, turning him into a mightier form when he was on the brink of death. He was at the peak of his strength now, but the device remained a symbol of their bond nonetheless. Aria thrust it high into the air, rays of blinding light spilling forth from its screen. So, too, did Justimon’s fist glow, the light pulsing like a heartbeat as he winded it back. Titamon’s eyes widened; with fear or with anticipation, Justimon couldn’t be sure.

The world seemed to freeze for a second. Then, Justimon lunged forward, fist aimed right for Titamon’s cheek with an earth-shattering—

THUD! 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


You ever have one of those dreams where you feel like you're falling? That was exactly how Isaac felt. Except, as the pain shot through his nose, he realized there was one little difference: He actually had fallen.

The pain slowly dulled, and the familiar scratchiness of carpet rushed to take its place. A groan slithered from the back of his throat all the while. Getting popped in the face was something he was used to, but this? This was where he drew the line. He peeled an eye open, shifting from side to side to try and gather his bearings. Unfortunately, that wouldn’t be happening any time soon. His room was pitch black, only lit up by harsh, red flickers of ‘4:15’ on his alarm clock. 

“Figures,” he muttered, trying not to think too hard about the death blow dealt to his sleep schedule. There were more important things to dwell on, anyway.

First priority would be killing that clock. If he forgot now, he just knew it’d go off when he least expected it. Too tired and disgruntled to even peel himself off the ground, Isaac opted for a far more elegant approach. Okay, so maybe stretching up to blindly fumble with the top of his nightstand wasn’t very elegant. But if it worked, it worked! After a few near-misses, he met his target, ignoring its beep of protest as he slammed down on the off button. With that settled, he could focus on his real goal for today. A blind sweep of his arm knocked his phone down from the nightstand, and Isaac pounced for it as if his life depended on it.

No new messages. 

Isaac’s brief excitement gave way to a scowl as his death grip tightened around his phone. “Swear to god, if you left me on read,” he said, fingers practically slamming into the screen as he tried to open his messenger app. The good news was that ‘The Asshat’—as his contacts list so eloquently put it—didn’t leave him on read. The bad news was that it was because none of the eighty-something messages he had left over the last week had even been glanced at. Bile rose in Isaac’s throat as he subjected himself to a scroll down bad memory lane.

The Asshat  
  
December 6 6:15 PM  
hell are you?  
  
dinners ready  
  
come on moms getting worried  
  
seriously?  
  
fuck kinda spite is this?  
  
not even gonna answer me?  
  
if you dont im eating your plate  
  
asshole  
  
7:30 PM  
tasted great btw  
  
so i hope youre happy  
  
cause i am  
  


The Asshat  
  
December 8 3:42 PM  
okay what the fuck  
  
its been 3 days  
  
this isnt funny anymore  
  
i mean it never was but  
  
5:19  
look  
  
you know i dont give a shit  
  
its not like you ever cared anyway  
  
theyre worried sick though  
  
they dont deserve this  
  
you dont deserve them  
  
but they dont deserve this  
  


The Asshat  
  
Dec 10 12:03 PM  
fuck did they even do?  
  
no  
  
really  
  
tell me  
  
still mad at mom?  
  
cause that was years ago  
  
get over it  
  
wait  
  
this cause of els choice?  
  
better not be  
  
or youre dead to me  
  
more dead to me than usual  
  
8:55 PM  
not even gonna answer?  
  
fuck you  
  


The Asshat  
  
December 11 11:59 PM  
you better not be dead  
  
cause if you are im coming down there  
  
to kick your ass  
  
obviously  
  
December 12 12:00 AM  
actually  
  
scratch that  
  
at least youd have an excuse  
  
fuck you if you dont  
  


The Asshat  
  
December 13 9:33 AM  
hey  
  
if youre reading this  
  
and you kidnapped this asshole  
  
or stabbed him  
  
can you at least text me back?  
  
let me know you did it?  
  
been waiting for him for a week  
  
its getting ridiculous  
  
also can you stab him if you didnt?  
  
just asking  
  


A whole week’s work of questions, pleas, threats, and theories scrolled by, and yet not a single answer among them. He laughed bitterly at the sight, hand twitching as he resisted the impulse to fling his phone at the wall. As painful as it was, he needed to be the bigger man here. Especially at this hour, he couldn’t let himself disturb—

“Isaac? You awake?”

Shit.

That soft, hesitant voice, half-swallowed up by a yawn, could’ve only belonged to his little sibling. Footsteps approached from down the hall, broken up with the occasional tap of a walking stick. Isaac sprang to his feet as they grew closer, smoothing out his pajamas and forcing a smile onto his face. As guilty as Isaac felt about disrupting their sleep, his mission was far more important. How could he convince them that everything was okay while face down on the floor?

By the time the lights flicked on, Isaac looked like the picture of happiness. A confident, easy grin spread across his face as he reclined against the bed, shooting them a wave. “Wide awake, El,” he said, forcing up a yawn right on cue. “Alarm clock slipped off the nightstand. You know how it is. Did it startle ya?” At El’s nod, Isaac’s smile shifted into a little frown. “Ah, crud, I didn’t mean it. But we’ve got school this morning, right? C’mon, you gotta get all your sleep in. I’m good, I promise.”

“Right,” El murmured. They tried to flash Isaac their best smile, but the smile was strained and highlighted by sorrowful olive eyes. They turned to return to their room, but froze up before passing through the doorframe. “Hey, Isaac?” they asked, the slightest quiver catching in their voice. “Did you hear from—”

“Dad’s still on his business trip,” Isaac interjected. He squinted down at his own reflection in his phone’s dark glass, running his thumb along its side in a facsimile of scrolling. “Big, important stuff going on in Japan. They’re gonna need him there way longer than he thought.” The disappointment that flickered across El’s face was like a clammy hand grabbing Isaac’s heart. Compared to how the truth would make El feel, it was a necessary evil. “But he loves you. And he wants you to know he’s thinking of you every day, okay?”

El sniffled a little, but their grin spread from ear to ear as they turned back to Isaac. “Thanks, bro,” they said, wiping a tear away from the corner of their eye. “For everything.” With that, they headed back to their room, footsteps fading into the darkness of the hallway.

Once they were gone, Isaac’s smile evaporated. Part of him felt disgusted at how easily he could lie to his own sibling. Another part of him accepted it as the reality of the situation. After all, ever since El was born, he’d had to play pretend.

Just one look at the two was all it took to prove that. Isaac’s straight, straw-blonde hair couldn’t have been more different from El’s messy, chocolate-brown mop. Isaac’s facial features were sharp and delicate, as opposed to El’s rounder ones. Hell, even their skin; El couldn’t tan to save their life, while Isaac colored if he was in the sun for more than an hour straight.

All of these were ways in which El matched their father, while Isaac couldn’t have looked more different. And that was all the evidence El’s father needed.

Sighing, Isaac turned his phone back on, moving back to the messenger app.

The Asshat  
  
December 14 4:21 AM  
day 8 of covering for you  
  
over a week now  
  
bet you still wont even check  
  
i dont care if you ignore me  
  
im used to it  
  
i dont need you here anyway  
  
i dont want you here  
  
but at least be there for el  
  
okay?  
  
4:45 AM  
please?  
  


He let that last word hang, nose scrunching up in disgust. Swallowing his pride hurt, but maybe, just maybe, it would work. He put his phone back to sleep, setting it on the nightstand and rifling through the drawers. He could go back to reading it later. First, he’d need to drag himself to school.

Normally, the walk to school was a chance for Isaac to clear his head. Normally, Isaac didn’t have a ticking time bomb in his pocket. Every few minutes he dug around for that phone, as if the hundredth time he’d checked would be any different from the last ninety nine times. It didn’t take a genius to show that Isaac’s current plan wasn’t working, but what else was he supposed to do? He had no idea where El’s father had gone. He had no idea how else to communicate to him.

~~~~

Did he even know what to say if he finally heard from him?

It wasn’t the first time the thought crossed Isaac’s mind, but it left bile burning the back of his throat nonetheless. What he wouldn’t give for a distraction right about now.

“Hey! Wait up!”

Okay. Any distraction but that.

Isaac would recognize his classmate’s voice anywhere. Anyone in their biology class would, with how she pounced on each of the teacher’s questions like a hyena on a fresh kill. Briefly, he wondered if he’d be able to keep walking and pretend he didn’t hear anything, but the long walk uphill quickly dissuaded him of that notion. Instead he just sighed, giving the slightest glance back over his shoulder. “Hey, Gloria.”

Gloria nodded, darting forward to fall in step with Isaac. He did a double take at how quickly she closed the gap between the two of them, especially with the overstuffed backpack and cello case dangling off of her back. Why was she even walking to school carrying so much crud? Hell, why was she even walking to school by herself in the first place? Not a moment passed where Gloria wasn’t surrounded by a small mob of friends and yes-men. Shouldn’t she have been cruising to school in a limo full of admirers or something like that?

That said, at least she’d dressed for the trek. Overdressed, in Isaac’s opinion. A hat and a scarf at the same time? That was just overkill. And leg warmers? What was this, the 80s? Her overelaborate choices were a painful reminder that Isaac had thrown on the first warm looking thing he’d found in his closet. It seemed like a good idea at the time, but as the winds picked up, the shivers down his spine started convincing him otherwise.

“How’ve you been lately, anyway?” Gloria chirped. Isaac blinked a few times in response. The fact that anyone could be so happy on a winter morning would’ve been a shock, if Isaac had been talking to anybody else.

Okay, at this point he was nitpicking. But what else was he supposed to do? Actually answer the question? He didn’t even know where to begin. ‘Oh, I’m just fine, girl I barely talk to. I’m just dealing with my piece of shit not-father abandoning the family. It’s such a nice change of pace from being the only one he can’t stand, don’t you think?’ Yeah. That’d go over real well. Instead he swallowed down his pride and his doubts, mustering up a “You know. Fine. What about you?”

Gloria’s eyes met Isaac’s. For a second, he could’ve sworn that her smile had dropped, but in the blink of an eye, it returned. “So!” she said, a small clap emphasizing that this was going to be one long conversation. “It’s been a pretty busy week, y’know? There’s the end of the semester, and the winter concert, and then the holidays coming up. So much to do, so little time, right? Honestly, I’m amazed you can keep a clear head through it all!”

Isaac fought the urge to laugh as if it was trying to stab him.

“I’ve really just been kinda tackling it all while it comes. Had to pull an all-nighter or two, but, hey, that just means I’ll be used to it when college comes. Helps that I found a really cute café to study at, too. Some good food really makes a difference when you’re getting down to business. Even saved some for the walk here! I would’ve offered you some, but, uh . . .” For a second she actually paused her ramble, rubbing the back of her neck and looking around. “Well, I’ll make sure to save a bit extra for tomorrow. After all, I’m going back soon as I’m done with practice to get some studying done. Tomorrow’s project isn’t gonna finish itself! You’re about to wrap yours up soon, right?”

Shit, was it his turn to talk again? Isaac gave a few seconds to make sure Gloria wasn’t just taking a breath between sentences. “Of course I am,” he said, fumbling with his phone in his pocket. It was a complete bald-faced lie, but at least Gloria had reminded him to look up carp anatomy before tomorrow’s due date. Maybe he could find a few facts on the fly while she wasn’t paying any—

“Wait. Have you even started?”

Shit. She was definitely paying attention.

Isaac opened his mouth to speak, but Gloria was quicker on the draw. “We’ve had a week and a half to work on this,” she said, the slightest huff escaping her. Her tone was hard to place; frustration? Judgment? Disappointment? With the way she put her hands on her hips, Isaac felt more like he was talking to a teacher than a fellow student. After taking a moment to size him up, Gloria just shook her head. “Isaac, come on. You’ve barely been focusing. Not even just in class. You’ve been spaced out for this whole walk, too. And you look like you just rolled out of bed. I swear, it’s like . . .” She paused, eyes closed as if lost in thought. Isaac braced himself, knowing he wouldn’t like what she’d say next:

“You need to apply yourself more. Come on, for your own sake.”

Isaac’s brow furrowed so hard that it nearly cast his eyes in shadow, and his knuckles clenched around his phone until they turned white. He was juggling a crisis here, and she was getting on his case about some project? “I’m sorry not everyone can be like you, little miss perfect,” he said, voice low and heavy. With what? At this point, he couldn’t even tell. He averted his eyes from Gloria, as if staring a hole through the pavement. “Look, it’s not like we talk much. At all. Fuck, I think this is the first time you’ve even said my name. So what do you care?”

“I just—” Gloria started, but she couldn’t find the words to finish. Frankly, Isaac couldn’t bring himself to care about the reasons why. He just wanted to move on.

“Yeah. Exactly,” Isaac said. By now the initial anger in his voice had ebbed away. Only cold acceptance remained. He finally found the strength to look up, sighing slightly in relief upon seeing how close the school was. Just a block further, and then he could put this whole mess behind him. “Well, that’s our stop,” he added, his pace hastening ever so slightly.

As he reached the door, he could hear Gloria’s voice from behind. “Hey, uh, have a good day!” she called. She tried to hold a chipper tone, but it was layered thick with uncertainty.

Isaac waited in the doorway, letting her thought hang for a moment. Finally, he peeked over his shoulder, expression unreadable. “Yeah. Sure. You too,” he said, before disappearing into the building.

~~~~

The rest of the school day passed in a blur. Sure, it was always kind of a blur to Isaac. Book learning was never his strong suit. Yet even by those standards, he could barely bring himself to focus on his work. He could barely go five minutes without checking his phone, no matter how many death glares and threats of detention were shot his way. There was still no response from the man he refused to call father. There was now a growing database of carp facts in his phone’s notes, but it was a small comfort at best.

The ringing of the last bell of the day was music to Isaac’s ears. Now he could head home, stuff his face, and work through that project until he passed out. Or he could ignore all of that and send more angry texts. It was a win-win, really!

At least, it would’ve been a win-win. Life had other plans, and those plans started with a sudden pressure shooting up Isaac’s wrist. He barely had a second to process this before he was tugged back towards the nearest classroom. Isaac’s eyes narrowed, a sigh leaking from every clenched muscle of his body. He knew exactly what was happening now. “Not in the mood for your bullshit today, Lance,” he grumbled. “Gonna let me go, or do I gotta make this worse for the both of us?”

The chatter of the halls faded away, silence rushing to fill the void. After what felt like minutes, a voice shooed it away. “Wait, did you think I was Lance?” it asked, disbelief mixed with a dash of hurt. “Seriously?”

Lance’s voice wasn’t that womanly. He didn’t manicure his hand with such care. And, as a quick turn-around confirmed, he certainly wasn’t a tall, lanky girl with dark skin. There was no need to panic. He’d only been snatched away by a complete stranger. The tension rolled out of Isaac’s shoulders, and the ghost of an easy smile took the place of his tightly-knit brow. “God, no. That guy sucks,” he said, the girl snorting in response. “Though, sheesh. You usually just grab people without introducing yourself? Cause, uh, pretty sure I’ve never seen you around before.”

“You try flagging a guy down when he’s hunched over a phone like it’s his precious,” she said, a smirk spreading across her face. “Ain’t exactly dealing with Mr. Personality here.”

So that was how she wanted to play, eh? Isaac rolled his eyes, then squatted into an exaggerated hunch. He clutched his phone to his chest as if his life depended on it. “We won’t lets you takes it!” he rasped, a grin inching across his face. “It’s our Precious, ours!” What was once an attempt at a bestial stance devolved into Isaac doubling over from laughter. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d laughed this hard, or let his mind wander from the goal he’d assigned himself. Shit, how badly did he need this? And how much of a prick was he for laughing so hard at his own joke?

Luckily, it worked. The new girl was snickering along, and just like that the ice had been broken. “Man, where was that liveliness last week? Here I thought I’ve been trying to chase down a ghost,” she said, shaking her head. “Anyway, the name’s Rhea. I’d say it’s nice to meet you, but—”

“I still kinda look like shit, huh?” Isaac interjected, his smile fading ever so slightly.

“You do. And you don’t seem too happy, either.”

In medieval times, a king’s fool used humor to bring bad news and point out flaws nobody else dared speak of. That was exactly how Isaac felt as he walked headfirst into the hottest roasting of his life. Frankly, if he wasn’t in such a baffling situation, he would’ve been pissed. But being dragged aside by some random stranger, cracking jokes for the first time in a week, and getting roasted to hell and back was something that left Isaac with no response. After a moment of silence for his dignity, he found himself snickering back. “Walked right into that one, huh?” he asked.

Rhea paused, looking Isaac up and down. “You did. You also said it first, not me,” she said, the smile on her face fading some. “That means no dodging the question:

“You lost somebody, didn’t you?”

The broken ice started to refreeze around Isaac’s heart. The smile all of this clowning around had brought out retreated as quickly as it had come. For the second time, he clutched his phone tightly, but with far less intention behind the gesture. Part of him wanted to scream. Part of him wanted to go back to the silliness. Part of him wanted to just turn around and walk away. His mind pulled him in a million directions, but in the end all he could muster up was a single question. “How did you know?” he asked, unable to place the tone that had leaked into his voice.

“Saw it on your phone,” Rhea said quickly. “You really gotta be more subtle with that thing.”

Isaac scowled in defeat. He couldn’t recall anyone peeking over his shoulder, but with how often he checked the thing, was it any surprise that someone would see? “Yeah, I guess,” he said, averting his eyes. “Not that it was anyone worth keeping.”

“You sure?” Rhea asked, eyeing Isaac up and down. “I mean, with how you’re acti—”

“Can we not do this?” Isaac asked, a touch of harshness creeping into his voice. Did he really want a repeat of this morning, though? He closed his eyes, taking a second to catch his breath and compose himself. His body was wound up so tightly that even breathing was a challenge. When the hell did de-stressing get so hard? “Look, if you want to talk, that’s fine. I forget how much I need it sometimes. But dealing with this shit’s hard enough as is. So if that’s how this is going to go, I’m just gonna walk and spare myself the trouble.”

“Wait!” Rhea said, her voice louder and more hurried than it was a second ago. “You’re right. We don’t have to talk about anything you don’t want to. You don’t even have to talk to me after this. Just . . .” She trailed off, but her eyes never left Isaac’s. “Give me a minute, okay? There’s something important I need to tell you.”

As tempted as he was to turn and walk away, Isaac faltered. Had she successfully piqued his curiosity? Did he figure he owed her the time after she went through all of the effort to find him? Or was he just distracted by that undercurrent of panic in her voice? Maybe it was any of these. Maybe it was all of them. Isaac could only guess why. He slowly shifted out of his defensive stance, backing towards the door and easing it shut. “Alright,” he said, breaking the freshly-made silence. “But just one minute.”

The desperation in Rhea’s eyes melted away, a mask of ease returning to her face. Despite that, her smile seemed the slightest bit strained, and her pupils darted from side to side. “Okay, so. Ever notice that sometimes, people just disappear on you?” she asked, looking expectantly Isaac’s way. “Guy’s working at the same convenience store for years. Then one day, out of the blue, they’ve just gone off to god-knows-where?”

“Someone quitting their shit, dead-end job’s nothing new,” Isaac said, shrugging. “Only difference is they’re fed up enough to do something about it.”

“How about houses staying untouched for a week at a time? Doors never opened, car never unparked, mail piling up, just sitting there until someone’s worried enough to go poking around?” Rhea asked, folding her arms. With each word her voice hardened, taking on the tone of a professor giving a lecture. Any doubts in her voice had long ebbed away. “And by the time someone pops in, it’s like the place hasn’t been lived in for weeks. Stale food and carpets of dust, far as the eye can see. Almost like the person living there never existed.”

Isaac blinked a few times. The look on his face took a turn for the incredulous that he just couldn’t hide. “No way in hell that’d slip past the news, right?” Isaac asked.

“Of course not. At least, not at first,” Rhea said. Even in the face of Isaac’s doubt, her conviction held firm. “But when there’s no suspect, no evidence, and nothing left behind, what’s anyone supposed to do? Case goes cold and that’s that. Throw it in the pile with the rest. Rinse, wash, repeat for years. You know Occam’s Razor, right?”

“Yeah. It’s how Occam shaves.”

“Cute. Anyway, we’re looking for the simpler option, right? So you tell me. Does some kind of super-patient serial killer, working over decades and disappearing every shred of evidence without a slip-up, sound even remotely realistic to you?”

“Can’t say it does.”

“Exactly!” Rhea clapped once to emphasize the point, her grin widening. “That means you and I both know it has to be some other option. And each day I’m more convinced there’s only one that makes sense:

“Another world.”

The look on Isaac’s face suggested one of two things: Either he’d bitten into an entire lemon, or his train of thought had been completely and utterly derailed by Rhea’s leap in logic. Silence fell over the room as she kept looking at him, each second of disbelief punctuated by the harsh ticks of a classroom clock. “Well, that’s my minute,” Isaac said, turning on his on his heel to leave.

“Hey!” Rhea blurted, taking a half-step towards Isaac. “Come on, you’re just gonna walk away after that? Seriously?”

“You’re telling me a bunch of totally unrelated disappearances are happening because of some kind of other world. The hell do I even say to that?” Isaac asked.

“Better question is, the hell do you even say to this?” There was a twinkle in Rhea’s eye as she fished out her phone, triumphantly flashing it at Isaac. On the screen was what could only be described as an unrecognizable blur. It was as if someone had taken a picture of Bigfoot, slapped an action movie’s worth of lens flare onto it, and ruined the film it was captured on before it could even develop. Through the absolute mess of a picture, Isaac could barely make out what appeared to be an unusually large rodent standing on top of a pile of trash.

Isaac sighed, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose. “That I’m glad Chuck E. Cheese is still finding work these days? I don’t freaking know,” he said. “If you’re trying to cheer me up by saying I can beat up some rat until the answers to my problems come tumbling out of the sixth dimension, it’s not working. I’m going to look for some real answers now.”

“Wait!” she called, but to no avail. Isaac was already halfway out the door. “Come on, look at the size of that thing! You ever see a guy that big? A big ol’ ratty guy like that? Not me. Not ever. There’s no way that thing’s from here, so it’s gotta be from some kind of There. And if things from a There can be Here, people from Here have to be getting There somehow, right? Ten times now and there’s no body, no trace, not even a note! They have to be going somewhere!” Her voice quivered as she spoke, and as Isaac peeked over his shoulder, he could see her squeezing her eyes shut. Was she trying to compose herself?

Finally, she opened her eyes. “Trust me,” Rhea said, expression neutral and tone confident. It was as if her little outburst had never happened. He couldn’t help but admire the compartmentalization. “You’ll find them. And once you do, you’ll know who gave you the idea. Catch you later, Isaac.”

Isaac could only roll his eyes on the way out. “Yeah, yeah,” he said. “Nice to meet you, I guess.”

~~~~~

To today’s credit, it sure was less forgettable than the rest of the week. Even as Isaac eased himself into bed, his chats with Gloria and Rhea danced through his head. Did he really come off like a walking cry for help, or were they just too nosy for their own good? What in the world even drove people to believe such nonsense conspiracies? What was that chiming sound? And how many eggs could a carp even lay in its lifetime, anyway? There was no way Isaac’d be able to sleep at this rate. Maybe that was okay, though. That just meant he could spend more time checking his phone—

Wait.

His phone.

As in, the thing that just chimed.

That phone.

Isaac pounced on his phone like a starving wolf, damn near launching himself onto his nightstand in the process. It took only seconds to snatch it up, but from there he found himself frozen. His finger trembled as he held it over the on button, refusing to budge no matter how hard he tried. Why was he hesitating? What was he so afraid of? A million emotions tied a million knots in the deepest pits of his stomach, and for a second Isaac wondered if he should just put the phone down and walk away.

No. Not after everything it took to get this far.

Isaac closed his eyes and shook his head. “Come on, damnit,” he muttered, his words forcing out a breath that he didn’t realize he was holding. His phone felt like lead in his hands, but he refused to put it down. Instead, he forced his gaze on it, eyes bleary from sleeplessness but sharp with focus. “You don’t give a shit what he has to say for himself, right? So just do it. Right now. No stalling. No regrets. Okay? Okay.” Isaac slammed his finger on the home button, wincing away as the pale light shone right in his eyes. As her squinted through the glare, those three fateful words stared back at him.

1 NEW MESSAGE.


	2. The Text to Adventure

1450.

Incorrect password.

Fuck. Too jittery. Wrong order. Okay. Time to try again.

2540.

Incorrect password.

Seriously? Fat fingered the two? Ugh, fine, one more time.

1572.

Incorrect password.

Oh come on! How were his hands this shaky? Isaac grumbled under his breath, giving his head a quick, fierce shake to try and snap himself back to reality. “Focus, damn it,” he muttered, turning back to the phone for one last shot.

1540.

Perfect.

With his fears stowed away and the world’s most stubborn password screen vanquished, Isaac didn’t even have the patience to preview the message. He just smashed the notification with all of his might, blinking at a mile a minute as he waited for it to load.

The Asshat  
  
December 14 4:21 AM  
  
i dont want you here  
  
but at least be there for el  
  
okay?  
  
4:45 AM  
please?  
11:37 PM  
Hello?  
  


Isaac’s blinking stopped dead, eyes narrowing into a glare instead. After all this time, all he had to say was a hello? His fingers rained down with the speed and violence of a boxing champion’s jabs, each barrage dedicated to making the longest, angriest text of his life.

“the hell is your problem youre seriously gonna just tell me that after fucking off for a week without a single word to do god knows what god knows where without an explanation or even a fucking sorry?????? well you know what if youre gonna be like that i dont even want to hear from you anymore and im also telling el everything you f”

His thumb stopped in its tracks, hovering over the U button. How was he even going to end this? He’d used fuckhead before. And motherfucker. And fucking piece of shit. In fact, if one were to scroll back over his texting history, they’d see that Isaac had already thrown every f-bomb in the book at him. He’d even cobbled together some crude ones of his own, like fuckass and fuckshit.

He was running out of ways to say fuck. This was a problem.

Isaac stewed in his anger, trying to think of a brand new way of capping off his rage. The biggest problem with lashing out so often was that ‘we’re out of cereal’ and ‘I can’t believe you abandoned us’ ended up having the same level of intensity. Only his phone vibrating against his palm snapped him out of his trance.

The Asshat  
  
December 14 4:21 AM  
  
but at least be there for el  
  
okay?  
  
4:45 AM  
  
please?  
  
11:37 PM  
  
Hello?  
  
I'm sorry, but who is this?  
  


If Isaac was seeing red before, now he was seeing atomic purple. Was he seriously pulling this shit? Did he really fucking dare? Oh, that’s it, forget making the perfect text, it was time to–

The Asshat  
  
4:45 AM  
  
please?  
  
11:37 PM  
  
Hello?  
  
I'm sorry, but who is this?  
  
I found this phone over by the landfill.  
  
I wasn’t going to respond to anything, but there were hundreds of texts, so it seemed pretty urgent.  
  
Is everything okay?  
  


The cocktail of emotions that hit Isaac square in the face could only be described as a Long Island Iced Tea: It was full of too much of everything and made him want to vomit. First came the anger, though that might’ve been cheating considering he was already angry. Nevertheless, realizing that his futile quest had become more futile overnight did nothing to help there. After the anger came shame, a blush burning across his face as he realized that some stranger had just gotten a front row seat to his family circus. After the shame, the bitter aftertaste of guilt lingered behind. This stranger seemed really polite and helpful, and they had basically just taken an entire week’s worth of text screaming to the face. Isaac already knew that he could come off as prickly to others. He simply needed to look back at this morning to remember that. Yet somehow, he was sure he came off even worse in text than he did over voice.

All of these emotions rushed through his head, sending thoughts racing in all directions, but when the dust settled a surprising victor emerged: confusion.

Why was the phone even in a landfill in the first place?

Isaac pressed send to clear the message from his screen, and then set his phone down to think for a bit. Seconds later, he remembered what he had typed up and promptly decided that hitting send was a bad idea. He scooped the phone back up, fumbling it as he desperately tried to send amends.

The Asshat  
  
11:37 PM  
  
Is everything okay?  
  
the hell is your problem youre seriously gonna just tell me that after fucking off for a week without a single word to do god knows what god knows where without an explanation or even a fucking sorry?????? well you know what if youre gonna be like that i dont even want to hear from you anymore and im also telling el everything you f  
  
FUCK SHIT SORRY WRONG NUMBER  
  
i mean  
  
right number, wrong you?  
  
idfk this is weird  
  
It certainly is.  
  
Are you in the area? You might have an easier time figuring this out.  
  


Did this stranger seriously just ask that? Isaac sighed, shaking his head. For all they knew, they could’ve been on some drug dealer’s burner phone, inviting some really pissed off client with open arms. Were they trying to get stabbed right in the dumb, overly-trusting face? He had to say so– Ugh, no, he couldn't make their naiveté his problem. Especially not when it lined up perfectly with his needs. He could just snap them back to reality once he'd made the pickup, anyway.

The Asshat  
  
11:37 PM  
  
Are you in the area? You might have an easier time figuring this out.  
  
depends  
  
the area mean the quarry?  
  
Huh? No, there aren’t any quarries around here.  
  
Oh!  
  
Wait, yes, I know what you’re talking about.  
  
That’s exactly where I am.  
  


As if to confirm, a picture of the nearby landfill showed up on Isaac’s phone. There was something almost comforting about the rusted over sign hanging above heaps of indiscriminate garbage. Being only a 15 minute bike ride away from town and filled to the brim with another man’s treasure, its nickname was passed down throughout the high school by bored kids who had nowhere better to go poking around. With the sign rusted to illegibility, most could barely even remember its real name. Was there any place better for a semi-anonymous meeting?

The Asshat  
  
11:37 PM  
  
That’s exactly where I am.  
  
alright  
  
cool  
  
be there at midnight  
  
Wait! How will I know I have the right person?  
  
how many people go poking around a dump  
  
at 12 in the friggin morning  
  
You know what? That’s fair.  
  
I’ll see you then!  
  


With that, Isaac slapped today’s outfit back on and made for the door. It was time for his date with destiny, and he wasn’t about to stop for anyo–

“Don’t forget your jacket!”

Well, anyone but El. Isaac skidded to a halt by the doorway, making a show of slowly unhooking his jacket from the nearby coat rack. “Yeah, yeah, I got it,” he said, pushing a bit more cheer into his usual sarcasm. “Speaking of ‘don’t forget’, shouldn’t you ‘don’t forget’ about sleep? You’ve got school tomorrow.”

“But it’s raid night!” said El through their slightly ajar door.

“Starting to think it’s always raid night for you.”

“Hey, it’s not my fault they need me.” After a few frantic clicks from a mechanical keyboard, El continued. “Don’t you have school tomorrow, too? Where are you going?” 

“Yeah, that’s the thing,” Isaac said, voice trailing off as he tried in vain to unjam his zipper. “I’m behind on a project due tomorrow, so I called up an emergency study group. I’ve got the best of the best on the case, and we’re gonna find out everything there is to know about how carp work. So don’t you worry, okay? I’ll be back before you know it.”

“I’m not worried!” El poked their head out through the door, frowning slightly. “I just wish I knew. I could’ve helped you out.”

Isaac couldn’t help but laugh, shaking his head as he leaned against the door. “You might be the smart one, but you’re still the little sib here,” he said. “It’s my job to worry about you, not the other way around. ‘Sides, if you’re too busy doing my schoolwork, how are you going to make sure your own’s up to snuff?”

“Well, I won’t wait until the midnight before it’s due,” El said, a mischievous grin creeping up their face.

“Okay, that was ice cold.” Isaac’s frown practically drooped to his chin, and his eyes looked particularly big and wet. The over-exaggerated sorrow got El giggling up a storm, and before long Isaac was back to laughing too. “See you soon, okay? I’ll email if I need anything.” 

“Stay safe out there, bro!” With a smile and a wave, El popped back into their room. Isaac sighed in relief at the quiet. Was being behind on schoolwork always such a convenient excuse? He should’ve slacked off more often! But optimizing his last year of high school could wait; it was time to hit the road. He slipped out the door and crept over to the shed, taking care not to wake his mother or interrupt El’s raid along the way. Soon he’d found his target; an old bicycle nestled in the corner. Nostalgia pooled warmly in his stomach, only to come rushing out when he brought it out into the moonlight. Paint flaked off of the bike’s metal frame. Its wheels creaked in agony; when was the last time this poor thing was oiled? He could feel the burn in his knees as he settled onto its slightly-too-small frame. 

Isaac’s ride for the night wasn’t glamorous, but it’d do. Not like there was anybody he was out to impress tonight.

~~~~

Pants of exertion turned into gasps and coughs as the rancid smell of garbage smashed Isaac in the face. “Can’t believe I’m doing this,” he grumbled, coasting for a second to pull the neck of his shirt over his nose. Unpleasant as it may be, it was a useful sign that he was getting closer to his destination. Any second now he’d see the rusted over sign and cheap sheet metal walls that made The Quarry stand out. Heck, he could already see them in the back of his mind. It may’ve been a gross, ugly old dump, but it was their gross, ugly old dump!

Once The Quarry was in sight, Isaac eased his bike to a stop. First priority was stretching out his legs. He may’ve been on the more athletic side of things, but bikes had sizes for a reason, damnit! As he shook the burning sensation out of his knees, he noticed that he wasn’t alone. 

Standing in front of the landfill’s fence was a figure cast in shadow. Was this his mystery contact? If so, mystery was one apt way of describing them. Their thick clothing made it nearly impossible to pick out any discerning features, or even properly see what they were doing. It was like a restroom sign got bored of its job and decided to walk around town for a change of pace. He watched for a few moments, waiting to see if this was just some random loiterer, before opening ‘The Asshat’s’ texts for what may be the last time.

The Asshat  
  
11:37 PM  
  
at 12 in the friggin morning  
  
You know what? That’s fair.  
  
I’ll see you then!  
  
December 15 12:01 AM  
  
that you down there?  
  
wave if it is  
  


Seconds after Isaac’s text, the figure raised an arm high. That was all the sign he needed to make his way down. He was tempted to just rush down there and finally bring this week of stress to a close, but he shook the thought as quickly as it came. Either he’d come off as too eager or end up giving his poor mystery contact a hell of a fright. Instead he took a deep breath, forcing his impulses down and doing his best to play it cool. Between his excitement, his fear, and just how cold it was tonight, he was fairly certain he looked constipated instead, but it was still an improvement.

As Isaac approached, it became clear why he had so much trouble identifying his mystery contact. Their baggy pants and large, puffy jacket swallowed up their entire figure. Large, industrial-strength gloves and thick work boots covered up their hands and feet, protecting them from both the bitter cold and the filth of the landfill. Not even their face was visible. Between the hard hat covering their head and the scarf wrapped around tightly around their mouth and nose, there was only a tiny bit of space for their eyes to poke out.

Wait.

Hadn’t he seen that scarf before?

The figure froze up as Isaac drew close, eyes wide. Both the air and the silence hung heavily between them. He tried to think of something, anything to say, but it was ultimately the figure–

No, it was Gloria who broke the silence.

“Isaac?”

Isaac could feel his face burning hot as the realization sunk in. It wasn’t some random stranger who had just gotten a window into his family’s drama. It was his classmate. Not even a classmate he’d trust enough with that information, but someone who couldn’t have been further away on the high school pecking order. It was like flubbing a line reading in front of Jordan Peele. Okay, that was an exaggeration. But it didn’t change the fact that he felt so small and exposed, in front of someone who stood so tall comparatively. This was after he’d been such a prick to her, too. Knowing that she could literally read between the lines of their earlier conversation almost made this whole mess worse. Should he apologize? Or would it just seem insincere, as if he could only do so when he was backed against a wall? For a second he just wanted to take the phone back, shrink away, and let the two of them pretend that this never happened. Yes, perfect. Neither of them would need to say a word.

“–and that’s why you’ve been looking so miserable lately, isn’t it? I should’ve realized sooner but I was just so–”

One problem with that plan: Gloria had already been saying words. Shit, how long had she been talking for? Isaac pulled himself out of his head and started paying attention.

“–worried, y’know? Like I thought you were going to end up messing up and you’d be working through the holiday, and then you’d be feeling even worse but I didn’t know I was just giving you more to stress about when you already had something so big going on, and it’s just all so horrible, especially when it’s almost Christmas— wait, hold on, do you even celebrate Christmas— oh who am I kidding, there’s no way you’re celebrating anything with what’s weighing on you right now and I’m sorry for–”

Isaac had no idea what to say. All he knew was that at the rate Gloria was talking, she wouldn’t stop until he spoke up. “Hey, come on, stop that,” he finally managed. He could barely place his tone of voice; irritation? Concern? Confusion? These mixed feelings carried his halfhearted protest away, and his words trailed off for a follow-up that never came.

Gloria stopped, but Isaac could see hurt flash in her eyes. Shit. “No, wait, I didn’t mean it like that,” he added, stumbling over his words in a rush to reassure her. “I’m just . . .” Again with the trailing off. Gloria no longer looked like a freshly kicked puppy, so that was an improvement. Unfortunately, said improvement didn’t change how little idea he had of what to say next. Feeling after feeling rushed to the tip of his tongue, but tightly clenched teeth held the line until his mind could force them back down. He’d already shown more of himself than he was comfortable with today. No, he just needed to get out of this conversation, pronto. “Don’t you have anything more important to worry about right now?”

“But you are important!” Gloria said, huffing slightly. “E-“

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Isaac said, shaking his head. He was fairly certain either a speech about how everyone was important or a truckload of pity was heading his way. No matter which was on the menu, he really wasn’t feeling up for another breathless ramble. “But, come on. You’ve already got a lot on your plate, don’t you? All those classes, and that guitar–”

“Cello.”

“Right, right. And then all your friends, too. That’s a lot that needs your attention already, right?” Isaac paused, trying to gauge Gloria’s reaction. The scarf covering most of her face made it a lot harder than he’d hoped, but it was enough to tell that this wasn’t working. “Look, I get it. You read those texts, you saw why I was being kind of a dick, and now you feel bad. I know you’re just trying to help. And I appreciate it. But, fuck. Right now I’d rather do anything but talk about this. So can we just . . . not? Please?”

Gloria looked at the phone, then back at Isaac, and then back at the phone. Her sigh was deep and heavy as she offered it back to him. “Okay,” she said, the resignation in her voice apparent even as her scarf muffled it. Isaac winced at her familiar tone. This was the same guilt he felt whenever he was helpless to ease El’s pain. Now it was his turn to be on the receiving end of it, and he couldn’t tell which way stung more.

Silence lingered between them as Isaac looked at the phone. Then he took it, the handoff between the two of them surprisingly ginger. As he tucked it into his pocket, he tried his hand at breaking through the awkwardness that had settled between them. “You know, I’m surprised you didn’t know it was me,” he said, adjusting his pocket to make room for the phone.

“I mean, from the way you typed and what you were talking about, I figured it’d be someone from our school,” Gloria said. “But I only had a number to go off of, so I couldn’t be sure.”

Isaac blinked a few times, his hand still resting on the phone in his pocket. Then he practically tore it free, smashing past menus to get to his not-father’s messages. Right at the top, resting above a pile of spam, boomer memes, and what Isaac desperately hoped wasn’t the end of a sext, were the messages from his own number. He paled as the revelation set in. “He couldn’t even save me as a contact?” he said, voice small.

He closed his eyes, clenched his fist, and took a second to just seethe. Then he reared back, ready to pitch this phone back into the trash where it belonged. Only a quick, frantic “Wait!” from Gloria got him to slow his roll. “I know, I know, that’d be really cathartic and you really need it right now. But can you please not throw it back in there?” she asked. “E-waste is kind of a huge problem around here already, and it’s kinda my job to make sure it’s not getting all mixed in. I know, bad time to ask, sorry, but . . . please?”

With a few heavy breaths, the anger started to melt away from Isaac. “Shit, right, my bad,” Isaac said, stuffing the phone back into his pocket. Even if he didn’t want to look at the damn thing right now, it’d be important evidence for later. His breaths continued to slow as he searched for something, anything he could talk about to take his mind off of this insult. Luckily, Gloria had given him the perfect out. “It’s funny. You’re one of the last people I'd expect to see working here. Though I guess it explains why you’re poking around here so late.”

Gloria rubbed the back of her neck. From the gap between her scarf and her hat, Isaac could make out the slightest blush on her face. “It’s not that this is what I want to do for the rest of my life or anything like that,” she said. “And calling this my job’s a bit of a strong word, I guess. It’s more that I help out here on nights sometimes. You see, my fath- oh, right, sorry.”

At Gloria’s abrupt stop, Isaac rolled his eyes and worked up a weary smile. This may’ve been her clumsiest attempt at comforting him yet. At the same time, even he had to admit that it was kind of sweet. “Hey, no, it’s fine,” he said, trying to hide the mix of amusement and exasperation in his voice. “A lot of people have dads. It’s not some big secret.”

“Right. Yeah. Okay,” Gloria said, a quick, nervous laugh escaping her. “So my father works here. And the fact that he’s busting his butt day in and day out like this just to help make sure that I can get into a good school’s always been something I felt kinda bad about. So now that I’m old enough to work I figured I’d help him out, you know? He and Mom always do so much for me, so the least I can do is try and give back somehow. I didn’t know if he’d take it well at first, but he was actually really supportive of the idea! He even took up the night shift so we could work together.”

Isaac tried not to let his grimace show. It sounded like Gloria spent more time with her parents in a single day than he had with his in months. “So if you’re on shift together, where is he?” Isaac asked. “No offense, but this seems like a pretty big job for a high schooler to do on her own.”

“He’s back in the camera room,” Gloria said. “We’re actually working in security. Usually my father’s the one patrolling, while I’m on camera duty. Lately his back’s been killing him, though, so I’ve been taking over for an hour here or there to help him out. It’s actually not as scary as I thought it would be, either! I just kind of walk around with this huge flashlight looking for anything that’s out of place–”

“Like a phone going off a hundred times in the middle of nowhere?”

“Sometimes. But we’re usually looking more for someones than somethings,” Gloria continued. “A lot of people come around to try and take from the landfill. I know, it isn’t going to any good use over here, but it’s dangerous to just let people around unstable piles of garbage and heavy machinery like that. So we have to turn them away instead of letting them run around unsupervised. That’s usually most of it, but we’re also asked to keep an eye out for animals through the night.”

Isaac snorted at the thought. “Like what, rats?” he asked. The idea of someone running around a literal garbage heap trying to keep rats out of it was some much needed anti-venom after a rough night.

“Well, yeah.” Gloria’s answer put an end to Isaac’s amusement as quickly as it came. “Not, like, rat-rats. But we’ve had a few employees telling us they’ve seen some kind of really big rodent around here. Maybe a raccoon? Or a possum? We’re not sure, but whatever it is, something that big could actually be a problem. We haven’t had any luck finding it yet, but as soon as we’ve got proof it’s the real deal, you can bet we’ll be calling pest control over.

Isaac paled, no longer looking at Gloria but instead past her. 

“. . . You okay?” “You’re not afraid of rats, are you? I’m sorry.” Her voice slowly faded into the background as Isaac thought back to Rhea’s photos. A giant rat lording over a massive pile of trash. That could’ve been a picture taken anywhere, right? It could’ve just been a photoshop somebody worked up for shits and giggles. Or a snapshot of an average day in New York. Maybe even backstage leaks from some kind of horror movie.

Or it could’ve meant Rhea was onto something after all.

“Huh?” Isaac asked, shaking his head in an attempt at snapping himself out of it. He sounded as dazed as a drunken sleepwalker, but Gloria didn’t seem inclined to press the issue. “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. Just tired, that’s all.” Frankly, this was the least tired Isaac had ever been. His mind was moving at a mile a minute. The mere idea of going to sleep and being left alone with his thoughts made him want to hurl. Nevertheless, he forced a strained smile onto his face, praying it would be enough to avoid another line of questioning.

Gloria opened her mouth, Isaac bracing himself for conversational impact. However, before she could say anything, soft chimes cut through the nighttime quiet. Isaac damn near jumped out of his skin, gathering his bearings just in time to see Gloria digging into her jacket’s pockets. “Sorry, sorry, that one’s me!” she said, pulling out a phone. One look at it left her pouting. 

“Oh! It’s my, uh . . . boyfriend,” she added. “Yeah, my boyfriend, Jack. With how late it is, he’s probably worried sick about me. But, I’ll see you later?” It was almost more statement than question, because the words were barely out of Gloria’s mouth before she’d started walking back to the landfill. “Bye, Isaac!” 

Normally, such an odd exchange would leave Isaac with more questions than he could count. Today, however, Isaac took it for the blessing it was. He got just the get-out-of-conversation-free card he was looking for, and now he could go back to puzzling over his current situation. “You too,” he said, shooting Gloria a quick wave and walking back towards his bike.

This was going to be a long ride home.

~~~~

Get up. Get clean. Get dressed. Get food. Get out. Get to school. Get through class.

Next step? Get even.

The school day drifted past without a trace, and soon Isaac found himself crouched behind the door of a nearby classroom. His target wouldn’t be very hard to find. Rhea was a head taller than most of the girls in their grade, and she tended to favor louder color choices that had fallen out of season this year. She wouldn’t be getting the jump on him this time, either. He’d taken a tactical trip to the bathroom to slip out of class before the final bell, making sure that he’d be in position before her day was even done. He was done passively waiting for texts. If he wanted answers now, he’d be getting them himself! Now he just needed to wait for his moment.

As soon as he settled into position, Isaac heard footsteps coming down the hall. Seriously? Last bell hadn’t even rung yet! Nevertheless, he peeked out from the doorframe, smirking as he saw a long shadow and a flash of yellow. Perfect. He slipped back behind the door, counting under his breath as he tried to time Rhea’s approach.

Three . . .

Two . . .

One! Showtime!

In one smooth motion Isaac slipped the door open, reaching out to take Rhea’s wrist. In an equally smooth motion she spun to face him, smirking as she stepped inside. “Missed me already?” she asked, capping off her effortless movement by easing the door shut with her heel. It couldn’t have been further from Isaac’s graceless stumble yesterday. His surprise must’ve been evident, because seconds later Rhea burst into laughter. “You should’ve seen the look on your face, man! It’s like you thought I was psychic or something.”

“Maybe a little,” Isaac said, laughing a little as the shock wore off. “Though, sheesh, is that always your reaction to getting grabbed by a stranger? Or was I just that predictable?”

“Considering you just tried to reenact our first meeting? I’ll let you answer that one yourself.” She stretched a little, yawning as she reclined against the door. With how casually she was acting, it felt more like she was the one setting up their little reunion. “I take it you’ve had time to think about what I had to say?”

“Can’t say I’m sold yet. But some stuff’s not adding up. Can you blame a guy for looking for answers?” He headed over to a nearby desk, Rhea hot on his heels. While she tried to keep her usual smug look on her face, it wasn’t quite holding. Her smile was a hair wider than usual, her eyes had a twinkle of mischief to them, and her entire body was tensed like a spring.

All of those promptly faded as Isaac dropped his father’s phone on the desk. Rhea’s nose wrinkled in agony. “I mean, I think the real question here’s why you’re bringing the world’s smelliest Nokia to school,” Rhea said. “Not even I’m that bad of a hoarder.”

“This thing’s been at The Quarry for a week now. Cleaned it best I can, but I’m pretty sure it’s one with the trash now,” Isaac said, shrugging. “Course, it’s always been trash, if you ask me.”

“Hey, show some respect. A Nokia’s gonna go a lot further than today’s crud does.”

“Not because it’s a Nokia. Because of whose Nokia it is. It’s . . .” Isaac’s mind and words drifted off in equal measure as he considered what to say, before dismissing it all with a shake of his head. “It’s a lot of shit I don’t want to get into. But it’s the phone of the person that’s gone missing, and I think you already know where I’m going with this.”

“Missing phone in The Quarry, day after I showed you my photo evidence?” Rhea asked. “Yeah, I can see why you came looking for me. But, hey, today’s your lucky day. You showed me yours, so now I’ll show you mine.” A mischievous glint flashed in Rhea’s eyes as she swung her backpack off her shoulders, landing on the table in a heavy crash. She rifled through what appeared to be a mess of notebooks and abandoned papers before finally drawing a three ringed binder labeled DIARY. “What?” she asked, eyeing Isaac up and down for his incredulous look. “Don’t you know it’s the best way to get people to stop snooping?”

Isaac was fairly certain Rhea’s disorganized mess of a backpack and low-key doomsday-prepper energy were the really heavy lifters there. However, he needed to practice holding his tongue more, and this was a wonderful chance for a learning opportunity. “You’ve, uh,” he started, scratching the back of his neck as he looked down at the binder. With how papers and tabs spilled out of it, Isaac was fairly certain it’d explode at the slightest touch. “You’ve certainly done your homework on this.”

“Pretty much the only thing I’ve done my homework on in years,” she said, smiling as if this was an achievement. “All ten cases over the last forty years. Least, ’til you just made it eleven. I was thinking of following you home to get a jumpstart on research, but, eh. You seemed kinda touchy, so I figured I’d give it a few days.” Was that supposed to be reassuring? Because from how she was smiling, Isaac was fairly sure that was supposed to be reassuring.

“Right,” he said, dragging the word out as he stooped down to the binder. The tabs had people’s names on them, with the exception of the one labeled “Untitled Isaac Project.” None of the names were anything Isaac recognized. Mira Nirupama. Harold Blaustein. Aria Consolata. Chantrea Pich. Nasim Aamir. Yet as he continued poring over the list, he finally found one that caught his eye.

“Melina Viktoria?” he asked, voice hushed. “From seventh grade? Wasn’t she–”

Rhea snatched the binder close, as if she was afraid it’d sprout legs and run away. “That’s just what they reported,” she said, voice hard as ice and twice as cold. It was as if Isaac was listening to a completely different Rhea now. “And without any proof, what they say’s worthless to me.”

Rhea’s tone and body language were unmistakable. They were exactly how Isaac had snapped at Gloria when she got a little too touchy about his school project and problems. Was this karma? No. This was understanding. Isaac held his hands up, as if to show he wouldn’t be trying to snatch the binder back. “Hey, it’s fine, I get it,” he said. “You don’t gotta show me anything you don’t want to.”

Rhea sighed, cramming the binder back into her backpack. “No, no, you’re right. We’ll have to look sooner or later,” she said, grumbling under her breath as she struggled with the zipper. “It’s just . . . I’m just . . .”

“Not ready?” Isaac asked.

“Fuck you for saying it like that,” she said. Her voice had a wistful, almost melancholic tone to it. Isaac could tell that ‘fuck you’ wasn’t aimed at him. “You’d think after five years of this it wouldn’t be so hard, right?”

“Maybe. Maybe not,” Isaac said. He looked at Rhea’s backpack, then at the abandoned Nokia, then at the desk space between the two of them. He clenched his fists tight, frustration and bitterness rolling up his spine. “Maybe it’s never going to get easier. Maybe at ten years we’ll be sitting in a college library feeling sorry for ourselves and having the same damn conversation. But so what if it’s hard? What are you supposed to do? Just keep giving up?” Isaac couldn’t bring himself to look at Rhea. Instead, he just stared a hole in the desk, his own shadow forced to bear the brunt of his verbal smackdown.

Rhea took a step closer, her own fists clenched and her own eyes averted. “You call this giving up?” she asked, her cold fury and guilt-ridden melancholy bleeding into one another. “Do you know how much I’ve put aside so I can get to the bottom of this? Grades? Extracurriculars? Whatever friends I had left? Say whatever you want about me, but don’t you dare say I’ve been giving up.”

“Oh yeah?” Isaac asked, taking a step closer in turn. “What do you have to show for it all, then? A bunch of paper? Some ‘photo evidence’ that not even a Bigfoot hunter would buy? Far as I can tell, the first thing you’ve really gotten done is getting me on board, and that? That was yesterday.”

“Well, gee, I’m so sorry for not cracking the case of, oh, I dunno,” Rhea said, making a show of thoughtfully stroking her chin. “Traveling between worlds! What, telling me you think you could do better?”

“Yeah!” Isaac said. “ ’Cause I’d actually be doing something about it instead of just writing it all down! But I can’t do it alone.” He unclenched his fists, finally working up the strength to look Rhea in the eye. “I think you’re onto something here. I have no idea what that something is, but fuck. We both know shit isn’t adding up how it should. And we both have people counting on us making it add up. So what if we’re not scientists, or cops, or . . . or . . .”

“Anything but a couple of slackers?” Rhea suggested.

“Yeah, exactly! Hell, if anything, that just means time’s on our side. We’ve got nothing better to do and nowhere else to be. So what’s stopping us from taking that binder and actually doing something with it?”

“You know, for someone who didn’t know shit until yesterday, you’re sure talking like a big shot,” Rhea said. Now the two were finally making eye contact. And sure enough, she was smiling. “Remind me real quick, how long have you been at this for?”

“Little over a week,” Isaac said, shrugging.

“Thought so,” Rhea said, folding her arms. “Could see in your face that it’s all still fresh. I figured it couldn’t have been more than a month ago. But I had to be sure just how much of a hasty idiot you were, you know?”

Isaac beamed at the “compliment.” “And a proud one, too,” he said jabbing a finger at his chest.

“Good. It’s no fun if you’re ashamed of it,” Rhea said. “Though if you’re so gung-ho about taking the lead here, why don’t you try coming up with a plan? I’m sure even your hasty idiot ideas are better than my, oh, what was that again? Nothing?”

Shit. Isaac really hadn’t thought this far ahead. Not helping matters was the way Rhea cupped her ear, leaning forward and making little ‘hm?’ noises. By now her smile had turned into a full-on shit-eating grin as he started sweating bullets. “Well, I’m not really much of a planner–”

“So I take it you’d just try the most direct course of action and, when it falls through, start scrambling for a backup?” Rhea asked. Isaac flushed a little with embarrassment, and her smile turned downright predatory in response. “You heard it here, folks! Look at our master planner, leading us out of the frying pan and into the fire! But, hey. At least running around like chickens with our heads cut off is doing something, right?”

Isaac tapped his hand against the desk, stifling a few snickers in the back of his throat. “Alright, alright, I get it. I’m tapping out, I’m tapping out,” he said, before full-on bursting into laughter. “Sheesh, at least I ended mine with a compliment. You’re just merciless!”

Rhea, too, was full-on laughing by now. She took a few steps closer to Isaac, waiting until her laughter subsided some before turning to face him. “That just means we’re even,” she said, giving him a gentle bump with her shoulder. “ ’Sides, I think we both needed to hear that.”

“Which part?”

“All of it.”

Isaac’s eye wandered back to the desk, his laughter taking a turn for the rueful as he did so. “You’re right. I hate it,” he said.

“Hey, trust me, you’re not the only one,” Rhea said. “I’ve been trying to get ready for the last five years now. Ready for what, hell if I know anymore. To bring it to the cops? Yeah, no, pretty sure they’d give me a pat on the head and wave me off. If they don’t get pissy at me trying to bring up cold cases in the first place. I’m talking about the impossible, so why the hell would they believe me?”

“At least you took five years to get ready. You wanna know what I’ve been doing the past week?” Isaac asked.

“What, spent all that time texting?” Rhea snorted in disbelief, only to a double take as Isaac’s glare focused on the Nokia. “No. No, you gotta be fucking with me.”

“And if I didn’t get my hands on this phone, I’m pretty sure I’d be at it for another few weeks,” Isaac said.

Now it was Rhea’s turn for rueful laughter. She motioned towards Isaac in a grand, sweeping gesture. “Ladies and gentlemen, Mr. Initiative!” she shouted. “Last seen needing the next steps of this little plan spoon-fed to him.”

“Hey, whoa, whoa, I thought we were done with the roasting!”

“Please, you went way harder than I did. But that just means I get to keep roasting you,” Rhea said, smirking mischievously.

“Anyway,” Isaac said, stressing each syllable in a desperate attempt to form a segue. “I think we made some good breakthroughs today. So what’s next on the agenda?”

“Well, let’s see. You’ve got no idea what you’re doing, but sure as hell ready to do something. I’ve literally written the book on this stuff, but I’ve been dragging my feet. And neither of us could whip up a plan to save our lives,” Rhea said. “Some group of amateur sleuths we make.”

“Just means we need to open this little group up a bit more,” Isaac said. “If a brains of the operation is what we need, I think I know a guy.”

“Shit, you have friends?” Isaac looked like he’d just been hit in the gut by a volleyball, and guilt flashed across Rhea’s face. “Hey, wait, I didn’t mean it like that! Just . . . you seem kinda like the loner type, y’know? And I don’t think I’ve seen you hanging around with anyone before.”

“I thought you decided not to start stalking me yet.”

“I only stalked you a little!” Rhea said. “Besides, I had to make sure I could approach you about this, right? Being fully honest here, you’re kinda the first person I’ve told about this.”

Isaac’s face returned to a state of ease. “You know, I didn’t expect to find that kinda flattering,” he said. “Still, trust me on this one. Guy’s a big brain, pretty mellow, and has a lot of patience for putting up with weird-sounding nonsense. No offense.”

“Only a little taken, but how are you sure?” Rhea asked.

“Because he’s El’s tutor,” Isaac said. “Or, at least, I think he’s El’s tutor. Pretty sure most of the time they just slack off, play games, and write comics.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Guess who has to narrate those comics,” Isaac said. Rhea froze up, jaw locked and eyes watering. He could only roll his eyes at the sight. “Fuck it, fine, you can laugh,” he offered, waving his hand in dismissal. With that, Rhea practically doubled over, a few desperate wheezes escaping her. “But being a slacker doesn’t mean he’s a fraud. Remember the end of freshman year? Free ice cream day?”

It took Rhea a few moments to recover from her laughter, leaving Isaac checking his phone as he waited for her response. Finally, she straightened herself against a nearby chair. “Duh. How could I forget free ice cream day?” she asked.

“Guy just slipped it onto the school calendar. Not sure how he got access, but sure enough, there was an ice cream truck handing that shit out the next day,” Isaac said.

“No way,” Rhea said, shaking her head. “School’s been doing it every end of the year since. No chance in hell they’ve been falling for the same prank each time.”

“You want to be the guy who has to tell the students no free ice cream this year?” Isaac asked. “Pretty sure they’re just waiting for another budget crunch or healthy eating initiative to ‘unfortunately’ drop the program, but ’til then? We’re living the good life.”

“Well, with an endorsement like that, who am I to say no?” Rhea said. “I take it you’ll ask him next time he tutors El, or–”

“Hell no! Sooner we find this guy, the better,” Isaac said. “And unless he’s moved, I should know just where to find him. Now c’mon, let’s go.” He took the Nokia and made his way to the door, but before he left he found himself stopping in the doorframe. “Hey, Rhea?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m sorry. Y’know. About what I said earlier.”

“Hey,” she said, voice stern. “Trust me. If I really had a problem with it, I would’ve floored you before you were halfway done. It wasn’t fun, but I think I needed to hear it. Y’know. From somebody that wasn’t me.”

“Yeah,” Isaac said. “God knows I could use that every now and then.”

“Then it’s a good thing you’ve got me around to return the favor,” Rhea said. She walked past Isaac, giving him another friendly shoulder bump. “Now let’s hit the road.”


End file.
